Control the storm
by MeredithvL
Summary: The First Contact War had been going on for years, and there are no signs that it will stop. Humanity doesn't know of other alien races than the turian, and they have no clue of why they were attacked. Marianne Brice, a human soldier, is captured by the enemy. AU with no Reapers and OC only. Rated M for language and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1: Stuff of nightmares

**Disclaimer**: I do not own or have any rights to representation of Bioware, EA Games and any other mass media trademarks within this fiction. Characters belong to Bioware. All is represented within the context of private entertainment.

**Notes**: A question on my mind inspired this story: What if the First Contact War had lasted for years and the other species decided to ignore humanity?

You will see no cannon characters from the games in this story. I have read many wonderful stories set in similar AU featuring Shepard or someone we know, but they don't work for me if Reapers are not involved, and they won't be here.

I couldn't find any expert on turian language, so I decided to invent a few words myself. I hope they sound as turian to you as they do to me! :P

Expect updates, but not often. Don't worry though, I will not abandon this story, or any of the other stories I'm writing. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

* * *

Chapter 1: Stuff of nightmares

"_Somethings wrong, shut the light _

_heavy thoughts tonight _

_And they aren't of snow white _

_dreams of war, dreams of liars _

_dreams of dragon's fire _

_and of things that will bite_"

Enter Sandman

Metallica

Lieutenant Marianne Brice knew it was over. She couldn't complain though. She had done almost everything she wanted to, and it had been one hell of a ride. She was young, but overall she had no regrets. How many people were lucky enough to say that at the end of their lives?

She had been fighting for days on that alien outpost, and she was exhausted. One by one, the members of her team had died, and she had been forced to take their supplies to stay alive just a minute longer. No ceremonies to honor their memories, no time for burials or cremation. For hours she had had no one to talk to, except for the orders she barked to herself in her head. Enter the soldier, leave the woman out. It was the only way she could have another breath, and each was the potential last one.

The infiltration mission had gone wrong from almost the very beginning, but it was too late for placing the blame on her C.O. His corpse lied on the floor, starting to rot. Just like the rest of the humans on that little toxic planet forsaken by God. She could see the alien's shadows surrounding her, closing on her position, and she knew that in seconds she would also face her Creator.

* * *

"It's stuff of nightmares!" said Aidan Carter in a grim tone.

He was watching the news next to Marianne Brice, both sat on a couch on her living room. They were both seventeen years old. She had this big, enormous, impossibly colossal crush on him, which he was unaware of. He treated Marianne like a sister, no matter how many things she tried to draw his attention to her. However, what they were seeing on the screen was terrifying, so much that Marianne wasn't thinking of how his lips would feel over hers. She was thinking if humanity had a chance of survival.

* * *

She had never seen the aliens so close. Sure, they were in full armor and had their helmets on, but they were still intimidating. She tried not to think about that, about the fact that she was in front of the solid response the galaxy gave the humans to their question "_are we alone?_". Her mind filled in: "_Well, fuck you, talking monkeys, you're not alone and your company bites._" Marianne was glad she didn't have to see their horrible faces at her final hour. She had seen pictures and diagrams, and that had been about all of how much she wanted to see of them.

Lt. Brice readied her assault rifle. At least if she was about to be killed by space monsters, she would take a few with her.

* * *

She had been a child when she first heard of the exciting discovery of alien ruins on Mars, but she remembered it clearly. Not only did Marianne remember her parents talking about it, but the discussions about it in school, in other people's homes, at the news. Many were afraid of the discovery, of the possible threats of space travel. The fear grew when scientists discovered that Charon was not a moon in the outer solar system, but a strange device that allowed to explore distant stars.

Little Marianne had not been afraid at all. She had been excited. That afternoon, however, young Marianne felt her childhood had been brutally vandalized, when the news displayed how humanity's biggest fear was justified. Aliens were real, and they were not friendly. They had attacked human ships that were exploring the galaxy, with no provocation. Nobody knew what the aliens would do next. Would they come to Earth? Exterminate every single human in the galaxy?

Aidan was livid, watching the screen, absorbing every word the journalists would say, every interview with Alliance's officers. He seemed to be scared to death. Marianne, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do. Her birthday was near. She would enlist in the Alliance Military that very same day.

* * *

She was a good shot. Two aliens went down before the rest surrounded her, before she felt a sharp pain in her right arm and the left knee at the same time. She had been shot. Lt. Brice growled softly, and fell to the floor. Her weapon fell before her. She still had her side pistol, but before she could reach it, they shot again. In her hand this time. She felt pain, but mostly she just stared at the red fluid pouring out her wounds, almost in disbelief.

"Narrag sethie muur!" one of the aliens said with reverberating voice. Of course, she didn't catch the meaning. It sounded like an order though. Perhaps the thing was telling the others to finish her off? It didn't matter. She had fought to the end. She was proud of herself. Marianne took a deep breath, knowing she had done everything in her power to try to stop them. It wasn't a bad death at all.

Two of the creatures lifted her from the floor. With its three fingered hand one of them took all of her weapons and anything she could use to hurt them, while the other shackled her. A large alien carried her in its arms.

Marianne understood that very second that she was being taken prisoner. Her first feeling was confusion, because she had never heard of the aliens doing that, despite the fact that the war had lasted for years now. However, most of the combat had happened in space, with ships attacking and taking down each other. Some colonies had been bombarded from orbit. Face to face combat was a very rare occurrence, and it normally ended with no survivors. When facing each other, both sides were fierce, ruthless. Nevertheless, for all their aggressiveness, the aliens didn't attempt to invade Earth, or even the largely populated colonies. The attacks weren't even that frequent as one would expect in a war, which helped the Alliance to reorganize and plan their strategies carefully. If they meant to destroy all humanity, they were sure taking their time to do so.

What they were doing with her was a change of strategy, because they decided not to kill her even after all the alien lives she took. They wanted something from her, and she decided she wouldn't give it to them. She made a promise to herself to stay strong. The Alliance had trained her for resisting interrogation, and she planned on putting that training to good use.

* * *

The Alliance had regulations against their soldiers 'fraternization'. That was the reason why Private Marianne Brice was not pleased when Aidan Carter decided to enlist, only two months after she had. Gone was any chance she could possibly had with him. Not that she had many to begin with.

That very night, Private Brice went to a bar, and got completely wasted for the first time in her life. She woke up in a place she didn't recognize. Soon she realized she was in someone else's bed, a naked man sleeping by her side. She sighed and checked on him. He was definitely older than the last boy she had been with. For a start, he was not a boy. He was cute. Marianne was glad that even drunken she had a good taste, and went back to sleep cuddling next to the stranger's body.

* * *

The aliens carried her away from the small building they had been fighting in. The wind outside carried death, as she could feel in all her open wounds, through her armor. She felt a burning pain in her open flesh, that was getting worse every passing second. She repressed the urge to scream.

There was a small vehicle, a shuttle probably, less than a hundred meters away. Fighting the wind, they all rushed in that direction, with the human prisoner still being carried by the large alien. When they reached the shuttle, it tossed Marianne inside. She was glad that at least she hit the metal floor on her back, and not with her shattered knee.

The door closed as soon as the last alien made its way inside. It took off, and meanwhile the creatures cleaned their armors. The planet was toxic for them also, she reasoned. She wondered why would they keep an outpost in such a hostile location.

After a while, they took off their helmets. They spoke in their strange language, but she couldn't make any of it. They were really ugly, just like in the pictures. Stuff of nightmares indeed. Fear clawed at the back of her head.

Marianne was tired, hungry and in a lot of pain. She realized how desperate her situation was. She was in enemy hands and she had no idea of what they planned to do with her, but she knew that if she gave in to despair, they would probably get what they wanted. She couldn't let them win. The young human focused on her curiosity instead, something to keep her mind off the pain and the fear.

She observed the aliens. They had two arms, two legs with spurs, and some strange hump on their backs. Their waist were so thin that it seemed almost impossible that it would support their large torso, but they moved with agility. Some of them had some sort of spikes on the crown of their heads, pointing backwards. Other lacked the spikes and where a little shorter. There seemed to be about the same quantity of the two types, for which Marianne reasoned some type was probably male and the other female. If logic for life on Earth was any indicator, the larger specimens were probably the male. She didn't know if evolution had taken the same logic on alien species though. She didn't even know if there were only male and female genders, but it seemed reasonable, for both diversity and practicality. All of them had mandibles instead of mouths, fierce eyes with bright, feral colors, and a flat nose. At least, it seemed like a nose, or it was in the same place on the face that a human nose would be. The faces looked to be of some rigid material. Definitely not skin. They had facial marks painted in different patterns and colors. Some sort of tribal markings?

One of the creatures approached her. She recognized it from the armor: it was the same creature that have given the 'narrag sethie muur' order a minute ago. It had spikes on its head. The alien crouched next to Marianne, and touched its arm. Something glowed orange on it. She looked. The creature growled something, and then it moved its hand as if it was typing something. A few seconds later the pain of her wounds was practically gone. The creature helped her up, cuffed as she was, and made her sit on a bench in the shuttle. It removed the prisoner's helmet.

"Sik Vriat Malek Nikus," the alien said looking at her, again with his voice reverberating. The mandibles moved in a strange way as it spoke.

The human stared at it, not sure of what it wanted.

"Nikus," repeated the creature, pointing at itself with one finger. "Vriat Nikus. Vriat Malek Nikus."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, understanding. It was introducing itself, but she still wasn't sure if it was male or female. It seemed polite, even nice. There was only the minor, little problem that it was her captor, though.

She took both cuffed hands to her chest, pointing at herself. She said, using the order that she understood from its words: "Brice. Lieutenant Brice. Lieutenant Marianne Brice."

"Brice," repeated the creature. "Lan tekre sanail, Marianne Brice." Nikus used a tone that would be considered reassuring if used by a human. The prisoner didn't know if the tones of voices for these aliens had the same meaning, but even if it did, there was little any of them could do to reassure her.

It didn't matter, though. She had no intention of replying. Her name and rank was the only information they were going to obtain from her, and she had only given that in case they needed it for an eventual exchange of prisoners. There was nothing else they needed to know. She decided not to speak any further, no matter what they did to her. She had no need to communicate with them, they had taken her and now they decided her fate, but she would keep as much control on her situation as she could. More importantly, Marianne didn't want to give the aliens any insight on her language or culture. She would give them no advantage over her people, even if she had to die to preserve them. That was what she had sworn to do when she enlisted to protect Earth from their threat.


	2. Chapter 2: In another realm

Chapter 2: In another realm.

"_These are the darkest clouds_

_To have surrounded me_

_Now I find my self alone caught in a cage_

_There's no flower to be found in here_

_Not withering_

_Or pale to me_"

Caged

Within Temptation

The shuttle landed, and most of the aliens got out. One of them lifted Marianne in its arms and carried her out of the small craft.

She looked around as she was being transported in the arms of the large alien. She didn't know where they were, but judging by the hum and the metal walls, they had to be inside a ship. A large vessel, judging by the impressive size of the cargo bay. Many aliens rushed around them, their eyes laced with what seemed to be a little curiosity about the human, but otherwise they kept to their business.

A cloak of cold terror fell on Marianne, before she could do anything to stop it. She was away from home, in the hands of a hostile species that didn't hesitate to kill humans, wounded and shackled. Who knew what would they do to her? She realized that whatever they had in mind for her, fell outside the realm of human imagination. It was like trying to imagine a fourth spacial dimension, or to grasp the true immensity of the Universe. She had never been so afraid in her entire life.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the terror refused to recede even one step. "_Enough already, Marianne,_" said a voice inside of her, in her head. She realized that she would be having that voice as a company from now on. She didn't mind, as long as it didn't develop a separated personality. "_You could be dead by now and you came to peace with it. What could they possibly do that'd be worse than that?_" continued the voice. Then, another voice replied, "_There are things worse than death__**...**_" She shivered. "_Enough already!_" the first voice commanded in the tone of a drill sergeant. "_Head straight, eyes sharp! Focus, soldier!_"

That was it. The terror was still there, but pushed into a dark corner in her mind. Once again she was in control of herself. She managed to look around, assessing her situation, almost as if the prisoner being carried by an alien creature was someone else. She was looking for any intel she could gather about their ship, in the crazy event that she could escape or was rescued somehow. Of course, she was realistic and knew there was virtually no chance of that. She didn't fool herself. She was just trying to keep her spirit up.

The cargo bay was huge indeed. She could see other shuttles and ground transports, judging by the wheels. Wheels. Those creatures had been born who knew how many stars away, had three fingers with talons and mandibles instead of a mouth, spoke a language that sounded like shrieks from hell... but they had invented wheels. Such a simple concept that it appeared to be universal to any sentient creature. She could have marvelled, if only someone had told her that instead of her seeing it in that horrible situation.

The alien that was carrying her stopped in front of a metallic wall. Another alien that was nearby approached, and pressed something on a panel on the wall. Two doors opened and she found herself with the large alien in a small room. She felt motion and realized it had to be an elevator. Another wave of raw terror threatened to take over her. She fought it the best she could, but if she had to be honest with herself, she didn't know how much longer would she be able to resist. She was being taken further inside that large alien vessel, each step moving her away from everything and everyone she knew and loved.

* * *

"Grandma, tell me another story," the little girl begged the lady, who didn't look like a grandmother at all. The woman was tall, with bright blonde hair she neatly held in a bum, and sharp green eyes. She hardly had any wrinkle on her face, but she seemed to be wise. She appeared to have seen many things over the course of the years.

"Not now, Marianne, you have to sleep," said the woman, tucking the child in her bed. She got up and turned to leave the room.

"When are mommy and daddy coming back?" the blonde little girl asked before the woman was out of her sight.

"Soon, my love," replied the lady. "You know mommy and daddy have to work, and sometimes they need to travel, but they love you and will be back soon."

"I know, granny," little Marianne said, rolling in the bed to sleep.

* * *

She was left over what seemed to be an examining couch. She was inside a large room, with other examining couches around her, a few objects that appeared to be med trolleys, and other devices she didn't even want to imagine what were meant for. It was obviously a med bay, but it was enormous, like most other things inside that ship.

"_It is a good sign, right? A med bay, for healing wounds?_" the timid voice in her head asked. She recognized that voice as the scared part of her. "_Shut up,_" replied the other part of her, the strong part, the drill sergeant. She knew she wasn't going crazy, not yet, but she would if she gave much power to the voices in her head. For now they were only a means to keep herself focused, to clarify her own mind.

Marianne noticed another alien approaching. It didn't wear an armor, which made it look very small compared with the other creature, and lacked spikes on its head. It was probably female, if she had to assume the larger ones were male. She decided she would go for it and believe it, it didn't make a difference which group she thought were the females and which were the males. At least, she **hoped** it wouldn't make a difference. She certainly didn't want to find out first hand. "_Oh God, of God, please don't let me find out first hand which ones are the males!_" the scared voice screamed in her mind. "_Now you're religious? You don't know! They most probably have a totally different physiology!_" the other voice yelled. She decided to calm down, there was nothing she could do. So far, they didn't harm her after they captured her.

The female alien examined Marianne for a few moments, while the male that had brought her to the med bay held her in place. Then the female stepped away, and came back with a syringe. She could see the shine of the large needle shinning to the artificial lights of the room.

The human soldier screamed, loud, and tried to get away. She hit the male alien hard with her healthy fist, and managed to get on her feet. Her knee sent a bolt of pain to her brain the second she placed her foot on the floor, but it didn't matter. She had to escape, she wasn't going to let them inject her whatever was in that syringe.

The male alien reduced her before she could reach the door of the med bay. She fought, kicked, hit and tried to bite, but it was useless. The alien had a lot more strength, and she was wounded. The creature pinned Marianne to the floor, and the female alien approached again. The soldier could catch another glimpse of the shine of the needle. Moments later, she could feel a prick on her neck.

Her vision clouded. The world around her started to turn and fade. Before she lost her senses, she told herself: "_I am Marianne Brice. A prisoner. A soldier. A human._"

* * *

"I don't think this was a good idea, Marianne," said the thin, tall woman caressing the cheeks of her daughter.

"Mom, it's decided, I'm enlisted already," Marianne replied, resolved. She was wearing the Alliance plain uniform. On her chest, she could feel the cold metal of her dog tags.

"Yes, but... Marianne," insisted her mother, "I don't think you should have. I know the situation is bad, but you didn't have to enlist. Other people will fight, we can't all turn into soldiers and expect to survive as a species..."

"You stay strong in here, mom," said the soldier, determined, holding her mother's face with both hands. Then she pointed a finger to the sky, and added, "I'll stay strong up there."

* * *

Slowly, she came to her senses. She was confused and in pain. She didn't recognize her surroundings, and for a few seconds didn't even remember what had happened. Then it all came to her: the fight, the death of her squad. Her capture. The aliens that took her to their spaceship. The needle. She opened her eyes, anxious, breathing fast.

It took her a moment to realize where she was. She looked around. It seemed to be a med bay, but it was nothing like the one she remembered. For a start, it had a different disposition, and it had windows. Barred windows that let natural light came through. Had they taken her to a planet? She realized however that the light looked nothing like the sun. It had a deep shade of blue.

As she looked around her, she realized that she was not alone in the room. The other examining couches were empty, but she could see two aliens on the other end, with their backs turned to her. They were doing something in front of a table. They talked to each other, but even if she could understand their language, they were too far away to tell words apart.

Something else was odd, wrong. Then it stroke her what it was. Her armor was gone. She looked at herself, and realized she was wearing only her catsuit, black and with the Alliance symbol. She also had bandages on her wounds. She touched her chest, in despair, her heart beating really fast. The dog tags were still there. She sighed, relieved. For some reason, those tags meant the world to her in that situation. They gave her identity, something to fight for and stay strong. Something reminding her of who she was.

Marianne tried to move, to get up, but her muscles didn't respond her. She felt weak and dizzy. It probably wasn't only the effect of the drug they had injected in her. She was hungry, and her body accused all the tiredness of the days she had been fighting.

It seemed that she had made more noise than she had intended, because the aliens swiveled to look at her. The door opened, and she noticed two other creatures entering the med bay with guns in their hands. Did they really think she was so dangerous, even wounded and without her weapons and armor? Apparently so, because the newcomers kept pointing at her with their guns as the other two aliens approached.

"Niag permulan?" asked one of the aliens who were in the room already. A female. A doctor?

Marianne kept her mouth shut. She had decided she wouldn't speak when she was inside that shuttle, and she planned to remain silent. It wasn't like she understood what did the doctor want, anyway.

The female walked to another part of the med bay, and came back with a glass of water. A glass. Of water. The alien offered it to Marianne, who looked away. She had no way of knowing what could the liquid be laced with.

The alien took her head with its three fingered hand, and made her look at the glass again.

"Jhote," it said. The female doctor took a sip from the glass, and offered it back to Marianne. "Jhote," it repeated.

The human took the glass, and drank. It really felt good letting the liquid fall through her throat. She hadn't realized how much she needed it. She finished the content of the glass before she could notice what she was doing. The doctor took the glass and brought it back, full again. This time she drank without complaining. "_You're dropping the guard!_" the voice warned her in her head, but it was too late. She had already finished the content of the second glass.

At that moment, something else appeared through the door, which closed behind... it. She looked at the strange creature.

Whatever had come in, looked nothing like the rest of the aliens in the room. For a start, it had skin. Actual skin, instead of those plaques that seemed to cover the other aliens. It was gray, and the creature also used gray clothes. It had a long and thin head that ended in two strange horns. It had big black eyes. The alien blinked a few times, and she noticed that it did it upwards! The creature was thin and tall, without spurs. It had legs similar to a goat. The arms were incredibly long. She couldn't see anything that resembled a nose. The whole thing looked more like the aliens in fantasy and popular tales, rather than like the aliens humanity had actually encountered.

The creature approached her, and she noticed that the doctor that had offered her water stepped back.

"Marianne Brice?" asked the newcomer, the alien that looked like an alien. It opened its arms and curved its mouth in... a smile? "Ah! Siolab dinae moreniadan!" it said, and then added, pointing at itself, "Halegeuse Corbat Gol Nioda Molus Jato." It tapped at its chest twice, and repeated, "Jato."


	3. Chapter 3: Trapped

**Note**: First of all, thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorites! They really warm my heart!

In reply to a review about the dates, keep in mind that I'm using the dates on the Codex and the wiki. If you have patience, you will find an explanation for everything in later chapters. I don't know how often will I be able to update, but I won't abandon the story!

* * *

Chapter 3: Trapped.

"_You have set something in motion_

_Much greater than you've ever known_

_Standing there in all your grand naivety_

_About to reap what you have sown_"

My Violent Heart

Nine Inch Nails

Commander Malek Nikus was leaning on a large windowsill, looking out. In spite of everything, he had to admit to himself that he really liked the landscapes of Gothis, its tall dark trees and the blue rocks laced with diamond veins. Something was very soothing about the blue light of the sun, dancing with the little sparkles on the ground. The planet used to be a thriving turian colony before the Unification War, in a time far before his people had even met other sentient species. Upon first contact with those fleshy aliens called 'humans', the Hierarchy decided to retake Gothis and establish an outpost there to monitor enemy's activities.

The building he was in was pretty much brand new, made with modules connected to each other by wide corridors. It was really large, and as comfortable as an outpost could be. The food was fresh and tasty, the beds were large. He had his own quarters, complete with an office, a bedroom with a private bathroom, and a living room. And yet, it wasn't a ship, and none other than Malek Nikus was to blame himself for the impossible situation he was in.

* * *

"A prisoner, Commander Nikus?" barked Captain Soranus, C.O. of the Intrepid, the vessel that Nikus was assigned to serve on. "What where you thinking? We don't have the appropriated facilities to have a prisoner on board."

"I know, sir," Malek hasty replied, trying to hide in his tone the contempt he felt for his Captain, just like every time he had to address the man, "but I was thinking she could be taken to a suitable location where she could be interrogated. We don't have enough knowledge about these 'human' creatures, sir. Even if she doesn't know anything useful, we could finally gain access to their language to upload it to our translators."

Soranus took a hand to his chin, looking at Nikus with his bright cruel eyes. Even since Commander Nikus had been assigned to the Intrepid, both men couldn't see each other eye to eye, but there was nothing any of them could do about it. The Captain had tried to get rid of the Commander many times, to no avail. Neither of them decided what ship they would serve on, and personal rivalries were no reason enough to ask for a relocation.

"Fine, Nikus," the Captain finally said, nodding slightly. "We aren't so far away from Gothis outpost. I'll arrange everything to have a team sent there. You'll conduct the interrogations..."

"Me, sir?" interrupted Malek, horrified. It was very rude to speak before a superior officer had finished talking. He could even be punished for doing that, but it mattered little to the turian Commander at that moment. He had to stop that nonsense. "I'm just a soldier..."

"You'll be assisted by linguists and other experts, of course," continued the Captain, ignoring the interruption. "However, since you are the first turian to ever capture one of those little animals, you should have the honor to give us all the knowledge she could provide. It's an honor few turians would refuse."

* * *

Yes, Commander Malek Nikus had to be blamed from trapping himself. He had finally given Soranus an excuse to get rid of him. Gothis was a nice world, but it wasn't a turian ship. He was now away from combat, confined to a rocky world with a team of experts, a salarian doctor, and a female alien with yellow plants growing from her head. That was the most disturbing feature about those creatures: the plants that inhabited the top of their heads, flowing with their movements, like in a sick symbiosis from hell itself.

The door opened behind him, and the perky salarian doctor entered his office. The Commander had previously instructed all his team that they could enter anytime, to report about the prisoner. If he needed privacy, he could always lock the door leading to the living room and the bedroom. Furthermore, he was actually expecting news from the salarian. Jato Molus was his name, his mind reminded him. Truth to be told, Malek had low tolerance for salarians and their rapid speech. They always seemed to be doing something, thinking something. Probably nothing good most of the time.

"Ah, Commander Nikus!" greeted the alien. The salarian approached until he stood in front of him. Malek had turned and was facing the door, his back on the window. He leaned on the windowsill casually, not really feeling that he had to adopt any formal attitude. He was, after all, in charge of the team assigned to deal with the prisoner. "I'm glad to report that the human is recovering from her wounds. She's in better health than one would expect, given the circumstances."

"Good," said the turian in a neutral tone of voice, nodding.

"I recommend giving her healthy and nutritious food," added the doctor moving his head to a side and twitching his hands together. "_Exasperating_," thought the turian Commander, although his expression didn't change. The salarian continued, "It will help in her recovery."

"I honestly have no idea what is healthy food for a human," frankly said Malek shaking his head. "Can she eat the same as you?"

"Oh, I'm sure she can!" said Jato opening his arms and smiling. "I've never seen any levo species that couldn't eat a good salarian stew."

"Good, just speak with our cook, I'll make sure we order the supplies we need," the Commander said moving his head as if pointing to the general direction of the kitchen. After a brief pause he added, "Anything else you can tell me?"

"Not right now," replied the doctor shaking his head. "I couldn't get her to talk, but I'm sure she will eventually. I'm most interested in hearing how her language sounds like. I wanted to say that I'm really thankful for this opportunity to study a new species, and I will take my responsibilities very seriously."

"I just need your discretion," said Nikus looking at the salarian with his piercing green eyes, adopting a severe tone, "and your skills to keep her alive until we're done interrogating her."

"Of course, of course," said Jato, twitching his hands together. He lowered his shoulders, as if intimidated by the large silver turian with white markings on his face. After a few seconds, the salarian asked, sounding afraid, "You... you won't torture her, right?"

"What do you think we are? Batarians?" Malek said, offended. He really looked frightening and menacing, and he was aware that he could cause that effect on people sometimes. Right at that moment, he didn't care. "We need information from her and we'll try to get it, but turians don't particularly enjoy hurting another sentient being. Let's just hope she's willing to collaborate."

"Of course," said the salarian nodding, his tone revealing his nervousness. "I..." he hesitated, walking backwards in the direction of the door, "I'll let you know if I need anything. I mean, for treating the pat... the prisoner."

"Good," said Malek nodding. The salarian left swiftly, before anything else could be said.

The turian Commander sat at his desk in his office, thinking. He had said the doctor that they weren't batarians, that they wouldn't torture the human if it wasn't necessary, but he was aware that it could be. He was realistic, and knew that hoping the prisoner would be cooperative was more an expression of desire than anything. Marianne Brice was an alien of a species he could not possibly understand, because he had never meet them before. And yet, there was something about the eyes that was universal to all species. People could read souls from the eyes, if one knew what to look at. Marianne's eyes had revealed Malek that she wouldn't easily submit, that she wouldn't yield until she had no other choice, and that fact gave very little choice himself. Trapped, both of them.

Lost on his thoughts, he hardly heard the sound of the door opening for the second time that afternoon. He looked up, only to see a figure from his past stand before him, a sardonic smile dancing on her mandibles.

* * *

"Why would you marry him, Cirtar?" he asked, running a talon down one of the plaques on her naked chest. The sheet covered both their legs up to their lower abdomen, hiding from his view the magnificent look of her waist. "You don't love him."

"Love is overrated, Malek Nikus," replied the woman chuckling lightly. "I have every reason in the world to marry him, but why should I tell you?"

"Being here, on this bed together," insisted Malek, glaring at her with his green eyes, "is not reason enough for you to tell me?"

"I'm already cheating at him with you," Cirtar said, shrugging and dismissing his words with a movement of her hand. "Are you worried that I might change with marriage? Don't be a fool, and come here before we run out of time."

* * *

There she was, Cirtar Kerseri, standing in all her magnificence. She was still as beautiful as before, her golden eyes shinning with intensity. She didn't have any colony markings on her brown caparace. Although that was rare for a turian, and could even become a social stigma, in her only enhanced her beauty. She never had a problem about her lack of markings that he knew off. Of course, he didn't know all the details in her life, especially since she got married and he refused to continue seeing her.

"Hello, Malek," she greeted, placing a hand on her waist and slightly tilting her weight to the other side.

"What are you doing here, Cirtar?" he asked, unable to conceal the annoyance in his tone.

"Not even a 'how have you been?'," she asked approaching his desk. She sat on the chair in front of his. "Military life has made you impolite, I see."

"That doesn't answer my question," he insisted, refusing to drop his guard.

"Well..." she started, "I heard that we have a human prisoner and I volunteered as psychology expert. I figured you'd need one."

"You knew I was here?" Malek asked, irritated.

"May I see her?" Cirtar asked ignoring his question. Of course, that was all the answer he needed, but still it upset him to no end that she would do that. Just like she did in the old days, when he was young and still had hope that he would win over her heart. The female turian continued, "How does she look like? I've never seen a human face to face."

"And you won't until I say so," replied the Commander in a firm tone.

"Is this your way to getting back at me?" she asked, slowly shaking her head. "Keep in mind I can be really useful." She leaned back on her chair, and looked at him as if studying him. "Let me guess. You're not precisely happy to be here. You're a military man, a man of ships and war. The sooner we do this, the sooner you can go back to what you perceive your life should be." She inclined forward on the table, extending her arm until she casually touched his hand. "Let me help you," she whispered. He drew his hand back immediately, and she chuckled.

"How is your husband doing?" Malek asked waving his hand.

"Fine," she replied sitting straight on her chair. "He's doing great. I'd say he sends his regards, but I doubt you'd believe me."

Malek sighed. It was true that she could be of help, and he knew better than to try to dissuade her. She was who she was, that would never change. He decided he would try his best to get her help and stay away from her games.

"Listen. I'm in charge here," he finally said after a moment of silence. "We do things my way, or we don't do them at all."

"Roger that, Commander," the female turian replied, nodding. The smile on her face was still there, undecipherable, eternal. Beautiful. Deadly.

Malek Nikus really hoped he could accomplish the task he had in his hands. Otherwise, things could get pretty nasty, both for his career and his sanity.


End file.
